


I Love You

by FictionalPerson



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Healing, I, Memories, Mentions of Cancer, Parent-Child Relationship, Song - Freeform, Widowed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 19:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalPerson/pseuds/FictionalPerson
Summary: Based on the song "Real Death", by Mount Eerie. Jace has just become a widow, now having to raise his daughter on his own. Jace-Centric.





	I Love You

"I love you," he whispered over her coffin. He kissed the head of the box as if he were kissing his late-wife. And he can almost hear her soft but strong voice whisper the same words back to him. But it was gone like the wind, which ripped across his face, drying his tears. He walked back to where his family all stood. His daughter, Celine, was being held by his brother, Alec Lightwood. He smiled at her, holding out his arms to hold her. She looks so much like her mother, Jace thought, kissing her forehead. She giggled. If only she knew that her mother was never coming back, Jace thought, sighing. He bounced her up and down, nuzzling his head into the crease of her shoulder and neck. She smelled like a perfect mixture of them both.

As the ceremony continued, Jace remembered the memories he shared with his beautiful Clary. All the fights, make-ups, sex, hugs, kisses - everything. His eyes watered. "I'll always love you," he whispered, and again, the words are lost to the wind blowing in his face.

When they got home that night, he saw a package. He opened the door to his house, ignoring the package at the moment - even though his curiosity was killing him - walking up the stairs, and into the bathroom. He started the bath, undressing his daughter, who babbled away. It put a smile on his face. When he placed her in the bath, she giggled, splashing around in the bubbles. He bathed her, smiling. But soon the memories came - when Clary told him she was pregnant, they were in that very same bathtub. The first thing they all did as a family was wash their baby in this bathtub. Two of his most cherished memories. 

He closed his eyes, a sharp pain ripping through his chest, knocking all the air out of him, leaving him gasping and his throat raw. 

He swallowed. 

She looked up at him confused, and then she started crying. "Mama," she wailed. And just like that, he sobbed, placing his clammy forehead against the cool, cold edge of the bathtub. She had missed her first word, which had been "mama." And she wasn't there to see it. To hold her as she called out to her. Wasn't there, and never would be. His daughter, probably sensing her father's distress and sadness, hugged her father's head, covering the top of his head in water and bubbles. 

"I love you," he said once he looked up at her, smiling sadly. He kissed her forehead. Once he dried her off and fed her her dinner, he placed her in her crib. He kissed her forehead. She yawned, snuggling into the pillow. "I love you," he whispered once again. It seemed it was all he could say - would say. When he was sure she was asleep, he went downstairs to look at the package. 

It only caused more pain. It was a package from his wife. To their daughter. It had been a week, and it came in then. Since his pride died the moment she had, he dropped to the floor, sobbing, not caring if he was heard. "I love you," he whispered to the air again. After a moment, he pulled himself together and brought the package into the house, setting it on the coffee table - another flash of a memory; them tangling their feet together on the coffee table, watching and laughing at How I Met Your Mother. 

He opened the box, only to find a paint set. For their daughter. He remembered the pillow talks they used to have. Them talking about what to name the baby, how they'll raise it. And in the end, they decided they would enforce music and art. Clary, Jace decided, must have wanted to start as soon as possible. ' She didn't talk about that with him - how soon. But she must have wanted it to be fast. Maybe, Jace thought, because she knew she was going to die soon. It was hard to have pillow talk when one of the pairs was lying on a hospital bed, getting weaker and weaker, dying. He went upstairs and placed the gift on a table. He was going to teach her, he promised. He may not be able to paint, but he'd teach her. If Clary couldn't, he would, because he loved her - both of them. 

He walked into his room, closing it behind him. The window was open. The bed unmade. He hadn't slept in his own bed in a month. Since she died, he slept on the couch, not bearing to be in the room that held such an emotional attachment to the both of them. And the three weeks before that, when her condition depleted, causing her to sleep in the hospital, he stayed with her every night. He looked at the nightstand, where he saw a piece of paper. He sat on his side of the bed - the now the only side - and read the note. _  
Dear, Jace, I love you. I love our daughter. I love our life. I don't want to leave. I will. So, as you read this, I'll be dead, and you'll be sad. I'm telling you to live. My death is sad, I know, I'm living it. I see how it tears you apart, watching me die. I want you to be happy. And in the end, I hope you believe, because I want to see you again. Because I love you. And tell Celine I love her every day. God knows how I wish I could tell her myself, but I can't. And every day, know that I love you. That I loved you until my dying breath. And I have no doubt that you feel empty, and that everything your life is failing. But it's not. Our daughter is beautiful, out friends are amazing. You are an amazing musician, that was your dream. Write this pain, this emptiness. Write a song, please. I love you. Yours forever, even after death, Clary._

Tears rolled down his cheeks, but he wiped his eyes, sniffling. He would listen to her. Even if it took years. Because he loved her. And always would. I one hundred percent recommend this song, this album! I cried so much while listening to it. So sad.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters, except Celine. I also recommend "Real Death", by Mount Eerie. It made me cry so much!


End file.
